HuggerMugger
by orangeburst44
Summary: being revised and will be called sub rosa also posted at hpff
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Ignored

**Agatha Christie****:**

~"Good advice is always certain to be ignored, but that's no reason not to give it."

No one ever listens to me, seriously. Now would be a good example of this. Emma is currently having a panic attack over forgetting her potions book. She is most likely afraid that shouting and a detention may occur. But this is unlikely due to the fact that our potions teacher, Professor Moon, is more then a bit of an idiot. Another reason is simply because if Professor Moon does notice this he could care less. Of all the awful things a student could do to receive a detention in Potions, forgetting ones text book is hardly considered a travesty. Plus there's the small fact that we all have our own text books and can just share with the simple excuse of there not being enough room thanks to our bulky cauldrons. And there is a massive pile of old text books that the graduating class from last year (and years previously) left behind in the corner, waiting to be used by anyone. And in today's case anyone would be Emma.

If Chanda was here (which she's not due to the fact that she failed the Potions portion of our O.W.L.S.) she would most likely tell Emma to shut it. But she's not, so the rest of us have to listen to her slightly pathetic moans about how this could be the turning point in her life, the one that makes her become some detention loving delinquent that ends up failing in all of her classes. Rose could care less simply because she's busy being Rose, and that means sitting in the front with her hands folded neatly over her book, waiting for Professor Moon to begin. For some reason Rose likes Professor Moon, but this is probably because he fawns over Rose like she's Merlin's reincarnation or something. It's pretty disturbing. And Ophelia is being herself, which means she's making Emma feel worse.

She keeps trying to grab Emma's small olive hands and use her "seeing eye" to find out what sort of awful punishment will be dealt her way from Professor Moon. This only makes Emma hiccup in her horrified sobs even louder. "Listen," I huff, "just share with Rose." Emma doesn't even twist her body towards me (she's sitting in the desk with Rose in front of the desk I share with Ophelia) to at least attempt to show that she's paying the slightest attention to me. Ophelia becomes finished with her "predictions" and deduces that Emma will be expelled and end up working as a barmaid in The Three Broomsticks while the rest of us receive an education. This causes Emma to hide behind her hands, which Ophelia has finally given back to her.

Since Ophelia's become bored with teasing Emma already, she leans forward in her seat and rests her head in her hands. "Little Emma, just share with Rosie," Ophelia has now switched roles from the teasing, antagonistic false friend into the soothing caretaker. But it's hard to keep my lips from thinning when I hear this. Hadn't I just said that!

I open my mouth to protest, "He-"

But Ophelia interrupts me, "Right Rosie, you'll share with Emma."

Rose is annoyed, class is about to start, the last students are entering the room, chatting about the essay that's due today. She whirls around in her seat to glare at us, presses her thin fingers to her lips and gives the worldly sign for shut up. Emma is sinking lower and lower into hysteria; it's a bit mortifying to be friends with her when she does this; especially since, well, she's actually usually like this, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now. "Here, I'll go get you a book," I try once again to simply try and calm her. The other N.E.W.T. level students from the other houses are beginning to look frightened as well. She is after all acting like someone just told her that puppies don't exist anymore. I'm about to get up, Emma still hasn't acted like she's heard me, but I'll do it anyway. I'm not good when it comes to people crying, it makes me feel like there's this itch I can't scratch.

But Ophelia once again steals the words from mouth, "I'll get you a book Emma, and you can use my potions book so Professor Moon won't suspect you." She reaches the foot distance between our desks, this causes her skirt to ride up a little, which in turn makes the Slytherin boys sitting behind us suddenly very awake and very excited. I know this only because they're giggling like school girls. It's pathetic. Ophelia hands her book off to Emma, who suddenly stops crying and causing a scene. She gives Ophelia the biggest, sweetest smile, and hugs the book to her chest. Ophelia walks off to the back of the classroom to retrieve a book, and because it's a Monday, and just like any day I've been ignored nonstop I can't help but grumble to the now elated and almost exuberant Emma, "I wished you'd stop being such a baby all the time."

For some reason people only listen to me when my voice, which is usually husky, takes a turn and sounds whiny and spits off insults to my friends. Emma frowns at me, "What are you talking about Luce?" Her lip begins to tremble again, oops.

I shake my head and turn my attentions towards Professor Moon. It's a bit ironic how his face is a bit round, and because the Professor obviously had dragon pox as a child, he has crater-like scars all over his face, thus rendering him to look a bit like a moon. But suddenly a student bursts open the door, which the Professor had just closed in an attempt to silence the babbling students. I can't tell who it is because it's just a blur of the same black robes and uniforms we all wear, unless of course it's burning up, like now, then some of us drape our robes over the backs of our chairs.

"Sorry, Professor, just some Head duties," the voice belongs to the Head Boy, Edmund Macmillan of Hufflepuff.

"Oh, I didn't see you there…" Professor Moon squints his eyes. He has awful eyesight and is always confusing people, except of course Rose. Although due to the fact that I am Rose's cousin and we both have red hair he has confused me for Rose before. Sadly, the Professor can't even name Macmillan even though he is Head Boy and there was a celebration for the Heads (Rose is the Head Girl, I'm not too bitter, but then again I wasn't even made a Prefect so….) the other night at dinner.

"Right, well…" Macmillan starts walking to the other side of the room. For some reason it is taking Ophelia forever to retrieve the book for herself. I turn to look for her and instead my line of vision is obscured by a mass of black robes. "Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here? It's only that there are no other seats and all the other Hufflepuffs, well, really just Finch-Fletchley- they all dropped out, seems they couldn't take it. I mean, not that they couldn't take it just that they decided they didn't want to. And I'd sit somewhere else, but well they're all full. Not exactly, they're not full it's just you know-" he said all this incredibly fast and only paused to gesture to the Slytherins behind me. When we looked at the Slytherins they sneered. And then Macmillan gestured towards the Ravenclaws, and they all had expressions of hate (it seems they were a little upset about the choice of Heads as well [not that I'm upset or anything, I wasn't even made a prefect]).

Instead of even giving me a chance to tell him, he'd just have to grow up and sit with someone else, he plopped himself down. "Don't you like Mondays? I sure do, it's all about starting over. The week's just beginning, and I can't wait to turn in this essay." He only paused to gesture to the massive roll of parchment that he called an "essay" but it was definitely a short novel in my opinion, it was almost as large as Rose's. But no one, not even crazy Macmillan is as strange when it comes to essays as Rose is. "I wrote about the importance of allowing potions to simmer for a while before use. It is really quite fascinating!" I was about to consider how anyone could write that much about potions simmering when I remembered that this was Ophelia's seat, and she should be back any second.

"Someone's sitting here!" I exhaled when he finally stopped talking, only because Professor Moon had written on the board the potion we would be making today.

Macmillan, just like everyone else ignored me and continued in his cheerfulness to regale me the story of how Madame Pince (the oldest person I've ever met) had reorganized the library causing him to almost have no idea of how he would be able to finish his novel, I mean essay. Ophelia finally came back, but instead of telling Macmillan to shove it she sat in the extra seat next to Rose in the desk in front of me. She began humming a silly ditty which caused Rose to whack her in the back of the neck. I didn't know what to do, I mean ever since Chanda had failed the O.W.L.S. I'd always shared a desk with Ophelia and Rose with Emma. But now the three had left me all alone, with the most talkative boy in the world.

"Did you know that the weather can affect the accuracy of your potion, infinitely fascinating isn't it? If it's a bit rainy you usually have to stir a few extra times, and of course you simply must allow it to simmer for at least another half hour! How about that!" that was how the next two hours went. Macmillan continued to incessantly tell me about the most random idiotic things. And every time I spoke or at least tried to he'd interrupt with some other tale. It was like I didn't exist. I kept reaching over the table, quite dangerous I might add due to the two cauldrons full of potions to reduce scarring (again ironic because Professor Moon might actually want to use this remedy). I was trying to reach Ophelia or Rose, I was still mad at Emma for ignoring me and being such a baby all the time, plus in a way it was her fault that I was seated next to Mr. Conversationalist. But the both of them would always swat my hand away and continue to ignore me.

Finally it was time to leave. We corked our brews into almost microscopic tubes and turned our essays in alongside our potions. Then we all cleaned up and headed towards lunch. But it seems that Macmillan got the wrong idea, because he walked alongside me and my friends talking loudly about the importance of wearing goggles in potions and describing in detail all the horrible ways your eyes could burn if you forgot to. Rose must have been a little used to this because she had to patrol the halls with him, which was why she easily got rid of him by saying, "Is that the Fat Friar?" It turns out Macmillan and the Fat Friar are close friends because he practically skipped off in the directions Rose pointed out. But before he left he gave my arm a painful squeeze and demanded, "Sit with me at dinner so we can study for the next lesson." I just don't understand.

Once he'd left Rose rolled her eyes and continued walking towards the Great Hall since it was lunch time. Ophelia looped her arms through mine and Emma's. She peered down at Emma and said the one thing that would get her to explode into a mess again, "Did you write your essay for Charms?" Obviously not, the way she tugged on her hair and began to call herself all sorts of offensive names. So far today was not a beginning of things like Macmillan said. It was really just like every day. With Chanda missing, even when we did have classes with her she'd taken to using class time to mean dating time; and Ophelia was always goading Emma into tears, even if she was only playing. And Rose was always pretending like she wasn't really friends with the four of us. And me, I was always being ignored; my words were always being stolen by Ophelia. The only difference I saw was that I found another person who found it incredibly easy to ignore everything that I say, and that person is Macmillan.

I look at my friends only to realize that they're up a ways ahead of me in the hall. I've gotten behind in my musings, so I change my pace and follow them to lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: A New Development

**Paul Ambroise Valery**

"That which has been believed by everyone, always and everywhere, has every chance of being false."

It was probably close to midnight by the time Macmillan finally decided that our "study session" was over, and by study session it was really more of a lecture about how "riveting and inspiring" it must have been to be around in the time of Gregory the Smarmy. I'm not kidding that's what the guy was called. It seems to me that Macmillan must be planning on giving me some of this guy's potion: the Unctuous Unction; it makes the drinker think that the giver is their best friend. Of all the potions to have created, what a waste.

But nonetheless I was finally free and feeling incredibly drowsy due to Macmillan's seminar about the life and times of Gregory the Smarmy. I was feeling so drowsy that I was even leaning against the wall as I was walking. I'm sure Macmillan would have walked with me if he could but the Hufflepuff dorms are near the kitchens so he had to go down several flights of stairs while I had to go up. Thank Merlin, otherwise I'd have fallen asleep in the old Transfiguration room (where we studied) and chances are that a certain Peeves would have found me; after all it's a particular haunt of his nowadays.

I heard a certain sound I couldn't quite place. It sounded like a hiss. It's funny how fast one wakes up upon thinking that Filch and his cat are upon you. I had no alibi since Macmillan and I had gone separate ways long ago, and I was crawling at a snail's pace. I stopped and leaned between a suit of armor and the wall. It's not that I cared that much about getting caught, only that detention is a complete waist of time, and well, my father is Percy Weasley after all, he'd probably have a stroke the minute he heard of this. Especially if he were to hear my explanation of "studying" with Macmillan.

It turns out though that the hissing was of two people speaking, quietly to one another in a whisper. Their feet were lightly touching the stone floor, and then they stopped a bit of ways from the armor I was hidden behind, because of the angle they were at they'd be able to see me if they knew where to look. And then, for reasons I'm still unsure of the moon peeped out from behind the clouds and the two figures were bathed in light. I could see exactly who they were, Rose and well, Scorpius Malfoy. It was one of those moments where your brain just can't take it and proceeds to shut off all of your systems one by one. First the respiratory system went away. I inhaled one last breath in shock and simply held it, it wouldn't let go. The air just simply stayed there in my lungs, quickly becoming stale. My vision went next; it became all blurry and fuzzy. Everything started to look like a painting when you get real close, all dots and no bigger picture. And then of course I lost my sense of balance. My knees leaned forward and the rest of me slid painfully to the floor.

I know that this seems horribly dramatic and a bit much. But Rose and Malfoy had never spoken a word to each other as far as I knew, never even glanced at each other. They simply didn't exist to each other. It was simply the fact that I had never thought this could be possible. And I'm sure the entire world thought so too. The Malfoys and the Weasleys are supposed to hate each other. They just are. It's a fact. And its in our blood, our genes, we've been programmed to hate each other since the beginning of time. It's a bit of the whole Capulet and Montague thing, only no one's in love. They were just friends as far as I could tell.

Then the ringing stopped and I heard their words. Well, really I just got over myself enough to realize the benefits of listening on in.

"Are you avoiding me?" It was Malfoy who asked this. His voice was surprisingly, well melodious, a soft baritone. Only right now he sounded anxious and nervous, causing it to be a little raspy and squeaky.

"No, of course not, I've just been very…busy with head duties and stuff." Her voice was jumpy, fretful. To be honest, I'd never heard Rose's voice hold this emotion before. Rose was always tough and persistent, a go-getter. It hurt to hear her sound terrified and the quivering of her hand was even obvious to me from where I was hiding.

He reached a hand out to grab her shoulder. She flinched and stepped back. "Is it because of the…kiss?" The way he asked it was so quiet I probably wouldn't have heard without the help of all the adrenaline rushing through my veins and hyping me up, plus I was using one of Uncle George's extendable ears that I'd left in my pocket for some reason.

Because it was dark I couldn't exactly see if Rose blushed or not, but she became startled by the slapping of hand against metal. I had sort of slipped and lost my balance and ended up reaching and grabbing hold of the suit of armor in front of me. Of course this caused the entire suit to fall and collapse all over the place, resonating and ringing. It caused the two of them to skitter off and run to their respective dormitories.

I wasn't so lucky though; the shield slid from the now mountainous heap of metal and ended up whacking me in the head. I ended up spending the rest of the night underneath a blanket of armor, fast asleep.

I woke up because someone kicked my foot, no joke. My friends are really that mean. My breath felt dry and stale, like I'd been lost in a desert for days, left with no food or water. I gasped the moment Chanda kicked my foot, causing me to ram my body and crash horribly into the fallen pieces of armor. I tried to clutch my aching body and protect it, but I couldn't since I was squashed beneath the armor.

Everything hurt, everywhere. No part of my body had been spared.

Instead of glaring at Chanda like most people would have I simply glared at Rose. After all this whole ordeal of sleeping beneath a suit of armor all night was pretty much her fault. Rose seemed flustered and nudged me with her foot. "Hey, what happened?" she frowned. She wouldn't even look me in the eye.

Chanda's grin spread slowly across her face and then she hissed, "Up all night practicing for Macmillan?"

I was still trapped so I couldn't exactly respond to either question right away. A few minutes of intense teamwork to get me out, and I leaned back against the wall and stood up slowly. Then I got a head rush, so I still couldn't exactly answer.

"Well?" Rose persisted.

"Peeves followed me after we finished studying, I was hiding, and he must of…well…thought it would've been funny to shove a suit of armor on me." The lie was easy and I didn't feel bad about contorting my words for my own personal benefit.

"We've been looking everywhere!" Emma sighed, while tugging on her hair. "How could you just fall asleep?"

"She was knocked out, dummy," Rose answered for me. Instead of remaining to chat though, she made some unheard comment and ran off.

The rest of them all stared at me until it became obvious that I should be sent to the Infirmary (what with the yellow bruises blossoming all over my skin). I was patched up quickly and sent off to lunch. Rose wasn't there either. She kept avoiding me for the rest of the week, until she "summoned" me on Saturday evening.

-So I don't really know if anyone actually likes this or not. I'll probably post the third chapter soon, but if I get no response I'll just stop posting since its worthless to waste time putting it up if no one's reading. I hope though that you guy's enjoyed it, sorry about the chapter being so short.

~orangeburst44


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: How Should I Feel?

**_Anonymous_**

_~"If you really love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours, if not it wasn't meant to be."_

* * *

Macmillan was busy droning on about how magnificent and wondrous Veritasm was, which ended up being slightly creepy. I mean was he planning on using it on someone or had he already used it? Again, slightly creepy. I guess the whole eeriness of his one-sided conversation must have gotten to me because I ended up blurting out, "HEY!"

"Yes, hello, Lucy-" he started to say towards my yelp.

"No, I mean…ugh…what exactly, no, no…what would you do if you found out someone was lying about something, but this person keeps avoiding you?" I stumbled and mumbled my way through this question, and afterwards a mortified expression appeared on my face.

"You mean you found out someone's secret? Did you _use_ Veritasm on someone? What was it like? Did they not remember? I thought they ended up being conscious? Aren't they supposed to remember? Did you mix it right? You must have messed up; it's quite a difficult potion to brew. Perhaps if we worked together, we'd be able to make a perfect-"

"NO! I didn't make Veritasm and use it on someone-"

"Then what are you talking about?" And then for the first time in the history of the life of Macmillan he shut up. He didn't talk. He didn't mumble. He didn't even breathe heavily in that disturbing open-mouthed way some people do. He just sat there in the old Transfiguration room staring at me. He didn't even blink.

And that's why I was a bit flustered. Obviously I can't tell Macmillan. I didn't even tell Emma, much less Ophelia or Chanda who'd go and blab the second it left my mouth. If I couldn't tell my friends then why would I tell Macmillan? "Well, you see, just hypothetically, what would you do?"

"Let's see…I found out a 'secret' about a particular someone and they're avoiding me? Well, the easy way would be to simply forget and just leave it. But, the best choice would be to confront this person and go from there."

I frowned. No way would I be able to forget this devastating news, nor would I be able to walk up to Rose and say, "Hey, I kind of on accident not intentionally spied on you while walking towards the dormitory. Oops, I found out your dirty little secret. Hope you don't hate me now, let's go to dinner." No that wouldn't work. Plus, it was pretty obvious that she knew that I knew something.

I huffed and put my head down on the desk. Macmillan tapped my shoulder and scooted until he was in way too much of my personal bubble. "If you need to talk about something you can tell me, honest. I would never tell anyone what you said. Never, not even if someone used Veritasm on me. Well, theoretically I would under that situation but I'd at least try and hold the information out for a little while and of course I'd-"

And then another strange occurrence arose. The door, which is quite heavy by the way, burst open, slammed against the wall, and Ophelia stood there. She didn't even say anything. She just stood there, much I'm afraid to say looking a bit like a troll. Macmillan was a bit flabbergasted, and his mouth hung open in shock. Ophelia and I stared at one another, until she huffed, and walked towards the two of us, we were in the back of the room, because I've always enjoyed being able to lean my head against the back wall.

Then she whirled a chair from the table in front of us around and sat. She placed her fingers in her lap and just sat there. I'm not kidding. Nothing happened for a long while. Ophelia and Macmillan simply sat there staring at one another. This seemed like the perfect opportunity for escape. Now I wouldn't have to tell Macmillan, and of course, I could get AWAY from him too. And Ophelia, well, she can take care of herself, I think.

So I slid down in my seat, quite slowly, much like people act towards a rabbit so as not to scare it away. Then I crawled out from under my desk and crept all the way to the door. Of course, they probably heard the hurried slam and slapping of shoes against concrete as I fled the scene. But no one in their right mind could expect me to stay there and listen to the two of them speak to one another. That's suicide.

Once I deemed that I was far enough away I slowed down to a considerable speed walk, one might even have called it a stroll. I was still breathing like a monster though, which is why it was easy for Chanda to recognize me from all the way across the hall. She opened a broom closet, looked both ways, saw me, and then came sprinting towards me. She was, obviously, disheveled. Her hair was about to fall out of its ponytail and a slight flush was on her cheeks. Not to mention the numerous hickeys adorning her neck and parts of her chest that I could see. I looked away to be courteous and because there are some things that you don't want to imagine your friends doing.

She slung an arm around me and asked me in a surprisingly flat voice, "Have you talked with Rose yet? She's forced all of us on a hunt to find you."

This was weird and I chose to ignore her for the moment. Escape was all I could think of, there was no time for Chanda, especially when she was acting a bit, well, melancholy. So I lied, just a little tiny one, what could it hurt? "Oh, yeah, we talked." How could she not hear the sarcasm in my voice?

"And?" she pressed, looking a slight ways up at me, due to the difference in our heights. She frowned. It was obvious that she was disgusted with someone, probably me. She tried to keep her face serene and pitying but instead her usual sneer remained plastered to her otherwise gorgeous face.

"And….what?" I huffed; I had changed my pace into a cross between a skip/jog/hop. Survival behavior occurs in the strangest ways sometimes.

"Aren't you- upset?" Chanda, like me didn't like being around "indisposed" people, which is why her nose crinkled at the thought of dealing with sniveling teary eyed individuals. Ordinarily I would have been able to understand that I should be crying and would have attempted to create a dramatic scene, but escape once again was all I could think of.

So instead of saying something akin to, "How will my heart go on?" or, "Please, I'd rather be alone right now." I actually said, well really snorted, "No! Why should I be?"

Chanda paused and fell far behind my bizarre pace of skipping/jogging/hopping. "Well, I suppose, I mean-ahh-umm, alright." She remained silent. Quite a feat I may add too, for even though I basked in the shadow of silence, all of my friends rather enjoyed spending their days rambling on about some nonsense or other, which is why when I _do _speak my thoughts end up being quite ignored. The pair of us continued in our own bizarre silent way towards the common room, where I took pleasure in hiding from everyone by proceeding to take a shower. After all, who of my friends would try and interrupt me there?

It turns out I hardly know Rose at all now. Not only does she secretly meet up with Malfoy _and _have make out sessions with him, but she also gets pleasure from bursting into the seventh year girl dorm bathroom and flinging the shower door open as well. Now, we are cousins. And of course, have spent a lifetime of changing in front of each other. I've even heard a tale of how when given to Nana's care we (all of the cousins) were stripped of our clothing thrown into a large tub and forced to bathe together. But it's hard to remain calm and casual, when something as sacred and private as a shower is rudely interrupted, especially when you're in the middle of a good shampooing. And, of course, I screamed a little too.

"Oh, shut up!" she barked. The water was still going and my hair was displayed in a peculiar mold of shampoo atop my head. I just stood there, blinking stupidly, and more than likely looking like a cow. "Don't lie and say its ok."

"It's not okay?" I had no clue what she was referring to.

"Chanda, she said you didn't mind! This is complete rubbish you know. After all you still love him!"

After being shouted at like this and not really understanding what's going on, I shut the water off and shivered against the tile. Plus, Rose had been avoiding me for obvious reasons; this was not what I had expected we would talk about when she finally did confront me.

Rose, at least had the sense to hand me a towel and even performed a quick spell on my hair to rid it of the shampoo, so instead of it residing on top of my head in a weird crown of shampoo, water and hair, I ended up just being a sopping wet mess. I wrapped the towel around me and sort of huddled to try and keep warm.

"Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about," I chattered out and walked towards the common room so I could change quickly and perform a drying spell on myself.

Rose snorted, "Stop trying to act like you're so tough. You dated him for two years. That's like the equivalent of marriage in teen years."

Had I been drinking or eating I would have gagged and spurted everything everywhere. That was the most idiotic thing I had ever heard come out of Rose's mouth. Had she become senseless while she avoided me? This was why I gaped and spluttered a little before telling Rose, "That was the most idiotic thing I have ever heard." She at least had the shame to duck her head, realizing her moment of intense Emma-ness.

"Well…the two of you were fairly close," Rose huffs and begins pulling her hair in a ponytail in an attempt to have something better to do with herself then face her stupid remarks.

I couldn't help but wonder why the person who was supposed to be the closest to me of all my family actually believed that Davies and I were "fairly close". It had been a sort of bizarre experiment of mine. I had never dated, therefore was intrigued to know what it was like, and I simply continued to put up with it because, well, you can't walk up to someone that you've spent a few months slobbering over their face and say, "Well, I've collected enough data, nice knowing you." So in a way it had pretty much worked out for everyone, Ryan experienced what he thought was a love filled relationship, I was able to know what it was like, and instead of me breaking his heart he ended up thinking that he'd broken mine, leaving him unbroken and ready for more.

"Not really," was my answer to Rose as I begin to pile on my favorite jamies. Now it was only the afternoon, but I planned on hiding in my fortress from everyone for the moment. Rose plunked down next to me and stared at her hands for a moment.

"You're a very…difficult person to deal with sometimes." She pauses and then continues, "I wish you'd tell the truth." That was completely ludicrous coming from Miss Know-It-All/Kisser-of-Malfoy and Runner-Away-From-Truth pants.

"Why are you bringing this up anyways?" I chose to ignore her hypocrisy since I didn't feel like engaging in a death match right now.

"I shouldn't be the one to tell you this. Chanda should, but since you ask…well, Chanda's dating Davies now." She said it quietly and morosely.

This information was intriguing but had little to no effect on me, causing Rose's brow to wrinkle in worry when I breathed out, "Hmm." Then I turned to her and decided to change the subject, "So do you have anything else to tell me?"

She just slid her eyes to her feet and let out a soft, "Hmm." And she thinks _I'm_ difficult.


End file.
